point blank pages spitted with percision like a direct hit on tha pitiful bitches..
I consider my sadistic images a little jittery when I'm listnin'...
not shakey, shivering in ya spinal column so hard ya slip a disc an it falls out...
like an ecstacy addict when he falls down, fuck a call out!..
I'm all about bomin' a sound on all ya clowns ta leave ya faces painted red...
traces of death infested in places I've frequent-ed...
names range from steven to fred, hold up!! gim'me a sec...
reasons I lead this game still goin' over my head...
I don't know how this shit happened, it just did.....
I just dust kids like a terrorist with no concience...
I promise... I'm-a never tell a word of truth in any my topics...
'cause all I say in my rhymes is a whole lot-a tall lies...
the only thing real in my verse is when I say I'm on lines...


PEACE

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